Heels in the Mud

Bianca adjusted the strap of her pack for the hundredth time, her flashlight beam cutting across the dark trunks of the forest. Everyone else trudged in a little cluster ahead—Indira and Juniper walking with purpose, Serena gliding between them like she belonged on a runway instead of on a hiking trail, Madison and Aynsley whispering to each other in the back like it was just another Friday night hangout.

She still wasn't sure what to think about the whole vanishing in a glade story. Magic? A portal? Some spooky shit from a Netflix series? Who even knew. But if the girls said it happened, if they swore up and down Joey had disappeared right in front of them, then fine—Bianca believed them. She had their back. That was the rule now.

Which was why she was biting her tongue as her flashlight beam slid over Eliza.

Everyone else had come prepared—leggings, hoodies, boots, or at least sneakers. Eliza, though… Eliza looked like she'd gotten lost on the way to a PTA meeting. Pale lavender blouse gaping at the buttons, pencil skirt stitched so tight across her hips it squeaked when she climbed over a root, glossy nude heels catching on every rock. She looked like a catalog model for Unfit For Outdoors Monthly.

"Girl," Bianca finally muttered as Eliza paused to catch her breath, tugging at the hem of her skirt like that would magically lengthen it. "You're not seriously hiking in that."

Eliza turned, her red hair already disheveled, her pale skin flushed pink from exertion. "I didn't have a choice," she said, like this was perfectly reasonable. "Joey picked out my work clothes for the day. And my sleep clothes for tonight. And these were the only options."

Bianca arched a brow. "Okay, well, I'd really love to see what the sleep clothes are if this is the practical choice."

Eliza's cheeks darkened, and she looked away. "They're… less practical."

Bianca snorted. "Figures. He probably had you in lace or something, didn't he?" She shook her head, grin tugging at her lips. "Fine. But when you faceplant on the trail because your heel gets stuck in the mud, don't say I didn't warn you."

They kept moving, flashlights bouncing, the group of them stumbling deeper into the woods. Bianca tried not to laugh every time Eliza wobbled, clutching at branches like she'd never seen uneven ground before. God bless her—Bianca respected the devotion. Really, she did. If Eliza wanted to throw herself at Joey's feet and call it teaching, sure. That was her strategy. But Bianca knew there were easier ways to win a guy's affection than hiking into the wilderness dressed like a cocktail waitress.

When they stopped to rest, Madison and Aynsley plopped down together, giggling over something on Aynsley's phone. Juniper leaned against Donna like they'd been glued together at the hip since birth. Indira and Serena sat close too, heads bent over a shared thermos. That left Bianca with Eliza, who smoothed her skirt primly over her thighs, like that could distract from the fact she was currently wearing the most impractical outfit of the group in the middle of the damn woods.

Bianca remembered how Donna had laid it all out back at the cars—five tents, one of them set aside for Steve, and the rest split between pairs. Madison with Aynsley (no surprise there, the two of them were practically a matched set), Juniper with Donna (also no surprise—Juniper was Donna's daughter). Indira and Serena made a kind of natural duo, seemingly having shared some secret between them in the past day, both secretly buzzing around their love of Joey like fireflies circling a lantern. That left Eliza with Bianca, and Donna had just sort of declared it with her usual authority, like it had been written on stone tablets.

Bianca hadn't argued. What would the point be? If Donna thought this was the best arrangement, she would support Donna. Bianca was, after all, on the same side as her. And she didn't mind Eliza, despite her lack of judgement.

Still, as she sat there now, watching Eliza tug at her blouse and pretend the night air wasn't giving her goosebumps, Bianca couldn't help but smirk. "Looks like you and me are bunking together, teach," she said. "Which means I get front row seats to see just how impractical those sleep clothes are."

Eliza's blush returned full ****. "They're not that bad," a pause, then, "I mean, it's not anything you haven't seen before."

"Mm-hm." Bianca leaned back on her pack, smirking. "Sure. And where is it that you think I might have seen it? OnlyFans?"

The truth was, Bianca could already guess exactly what "not that bad" meant. Lace. Silk. Something cut to please Joey, not a single thought spared for comfort or warmth. She had Joey written all over her, the way her clothes were chosen, the way she carried herself like she was on trial but Joey's approval was the jury's verdict. Bianca respected it, really. If Eliza wanted to throw herself headfirst into this whole become the submissive teacher to the world's most special eighteen-year-old boy project, then fine. Every one of these girls had their own strategy.

Her fingers drifted to the strap of her pack, tracing the stitching as she thought about how she'd gotten there in the first place. The text had buzzed across her phone that evening, right when she was taking off her apron back at Sage & Cedar, looking forward to relaxing for the evening. Donna's name lighting up the screen, a simple directive: Drop everything. Grab camping gear, dress warm, and meet at my house ASAP. Joey needs us. We're going into the woods.

No explanation. No begging. Just a statement of fact.

And Bianca had obeyed, without hesitation. Because Joey was special. Because if he needed her, that was that.

But now—now he was gone. Vanished. And the thought gnawed at her in a way she hadn't admitted out loud yet. If Joey was gone, if he wasn't here to touch her, to pull her close, to take what he wanted—then wasn't she neglecting him? Wasn't she letting him down by failing at the one thing that really gave her purpose? She took his sexual gratification very seriously, but what did her life even look like if he wasn't there anymore?

It wasn't unreasonable to want other men to keep their hands to themselves. That was obvious. Sacred, even. But Joey, her Joey, was different. She needed Joey in her life, to touch her, to use her. That was part of their bond, what held them together, the logic so deep in her bones she couldn't separate it from her own heartbeat. If she wasn't around to give him what he needed, if she wasn't supporting him like she was supposed to, then what was she even doing?

Her flashlight beam caught on Eliza's face for a moment, and Bianca caught the flicker of furious devotion there—sharp, focused, almost feverish. She realized she wasn't the only one wrestling with the question. Maybe all of them were.

Bianca rolled her eyes, smiling to herself. It was ridiculous, all of it. Ridiculous and kind of thrilling. Out here, together, waiting for Joey like he was the star of some myth. And maybe he was.

But even myths would tell you that if you're going on a hike, you need a practical pair of shoes.